To Find Her Place (Redemption's Light #2) - Susan Anne Mason Page 0,4
entered the office.
Relief loosened Jane’s shoulder muscles. “Bonnie. You’re in early. What can I do for you?”
“I thought you’d want to know that Mrs. Bennington called first thing this morning. They have another woman at the maternity home wanting to place an infant for adoption and asked if someone could come over. I know you prefer to handle Bennington Place personally, but Melanie said you’d be tied up with the auditor who’s coming in.” Her voice held a question, her gaze curious.
“Unfortunately, yes. I’ll have to see to Mr. Wilder.” Jane suppressed a flare of disappointment. She had a great rapport with the two women who ran the Bennington Place Maternity Home and looked forward to helping the expectant mothers who took refuge there. Now that she was acting directress, however, she often couldn’t afford the time to go out into the field. “I’d appreciate it if you could go over in my stead. Please give Ruth and Olivia my regards.”
“I will. Thank you, ma’am.”
When the door closed again, Jane released another soft sigh. Being called ma’am made her feel fifty instead of just shy of thirty. She flipped through the remaining pages on her small desk calendar. Well, she’d be twenty-nine for another three months anyway. Why was the thought of turning thirty so depressing?
As an eager girl of eighteen, she’d never imagined herself being divorced and living with her widowed mother at this age. She’d pictured herself happily married with at least four children by now. Her chest constricted on a familiar spasm of pain—the same pain she did her best to hide whenever she held a new baby or witnessed the joy of adoptive parents receiving their first child. For most people, the term miscarriage was barely a blip on their consciousness. But for Jane, the word meant more than just the loss of a child. To her, it meant the disintegration of her marriage and the death of her dreams for the future.
She could still hear her doctor’s words. “I’m terribly sorry, Mrs. Linder, but it’s my professional opinion that you are incapable of carrying a baby to term. I would strongly advise against getting pregnant again.”
Jane released the calendar page, allowing it to float back to September. Over the past four years, she’d had time to mourn her losses and had come to accept her fate, pouring all her energy into her career. Apparently, God had other plans for her life. A different way for her to minister to children.
Which was another reason why this job was so important to her.
And why she would do everything in her power to keep it.
Garrett Wilder stepped off the streetcar and fixed his fedora more securely on his head in order to counteract the gust of air that blew up around him. The streetcar chugged ahead with a clang, causing a small cyclone of dirt and leaves to swirl about the road. He’d decided to leave his car at home since he was unsure of the parking situation at the Children’s Aid office. Surprisingly, he found that he rather welcomed taking public transportation.
As he began the walk toward Isabella Street, his morning coffee from the boardinghouse churned in his unsettled stomach. Perhaps he should have skipped his usual beverage, knowing that the uncertainty of the day ahead would likely be hard on his digestive system.
Pushing all doubts aside, he forged ahead with a determined stride. This was only a matter of first-day jitters, nothing more. He had no cause to feel guilty about being brought in to the Children’s Aid Society to analyze its current operations, even if his arrival might create resentment on the part of Mrs. Linder, the woman who’d been filling in as acting directress for several months now.
Garrett conjured up the image of a plain, rail-thin woman, possibly in her mid-fifties, who wore no-nonsense clothing to match a military-like demeanor. It was rather unusual for a woman to receive such a promotion, even on a temporary basis. For Mrs. Linder to be put in charge of the whole office, she must have been working at the agency for some time.
The fact that the board of management deemed it necessary to bring in Garrett to investigate was even more unusual. The board hadn’t come out and said she was responsible for the financial difficulties facing the agency or the mysterious discrepancies with the books, but the hints had been pretty strong.
“Pay close attention to the directress,” Mr. Fenmore had urged him. “If there’s anything to